


The Beginnings of the Beginning

by Heliumshoes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heliumshoes/pseuds/Heliumshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Chris’s perspective, the beginning of beginnings was him and Peter. Or, technically Peter and Melissa, if he looks at it from a neutral standpoint. Or really vaguely, with Melissa and John. But those aren’t <i>his</i> beginnings, so he won’t label them as such.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginnings of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> My first Teen Wolf fic. :) Unbeta'd. This was originally posted on Tumblr, you can find the original here: http://whatahemicorporectomyis.tumblr.com/post/35591425519/the-beginnings-of-the-beginning
> 
> The Sheriff has been named John in this fic for convenience. Don't ask me where the kids are, idk haha.

From Chris’s perspective, the beginning of beginnings was him and Peter. Or, technically Peter and Melissa, if he looks at it from a neutral standpoint. Or really vaguely, with Melissa and John. But those aren’t _his_ beginnings, so he won’t label them as such.

~

No, his beginning starts in the forest, and he still vividly remembers it through senses; the feel of knife-handles pressing in to bony hips as his back becomes forcibly acquainted with the ground. The bittersweet smell of death that he knows like an old friend, though he’s newly acquainted meeting it on someone’s breath. That fucking _voice_ is what drives it all home. Holier-than-thou, haughty, with a shit-eating grin to match, throwing around pride that he had caught the hunter off his guard and tackled him flat.

For all of the hunter’s spat insults, hands squirming to reach anything to wipe away that smug face and greeting, the former alpha simply smiled, chuckled, and fled.

Death had left him fickle as a fucking teenager, but he returned every couple weeks or so for an apparently pointless appearance. It seemed that Chris was Peter’s new favorite plaything, and while the hunter grit his teeth and snapped out knives in response to each surprise approach, he was curious. What game is he playing, the hunter wondered, and where does he plan to go with this?

Tentatively, as the months wore on, Chris began to play back. At first, he began taking time to sit alone and relax in a diner downtown, at a table specifically for two. When he was approached by a visitor, he’d often grumble or glare, but never leave. As the weather dragged cold, if he “happened” to make too much coffee, he’d leave a travel cup of it on the path of his usual rounds. Eventually, weapons were no longer flared; ignoring the former alpha got better responses than threats ever did.

It was the window to a bedroom left open that finally did it. Usual snarky words meeting became mouths, and tongues, and so much more. Whether they knew that’s where things were heading or not, they’d never admit it. You don’t tell your opposition how you won a game; they might just use it against you.

~

No matter where Melissa’s true beginning with this whole landslide happened, she knows that the pivotal moment was when Peter took her out for another date. A house date, he’d recommended, for dinner. He had something special he wanted to show her, apparently.

He was only lucky she hadn’t experienced the Argent house yet.

The man in the house was seemingly just as shocked to find her there with Peter as she was to find the connection between the men; he claimed that Peter had casually mentioned going out to buy a bottle of wine before heading off. That he’d just been getting ready to make dinner and—…Wasn’t she Scott’s mother?

It took her a little bit of help to recognize who he was, but eventually it came back. He was much kinder this time than after that parent-teacher conference all those months ago, perhaps out of an inclination to stick together over what they’d just caught Peter doing, but kind all the same. Obligatory pleasantries were exchanged before Melissa excused herself, but Chris offered to drive her home. It was the least he could do with her car being left at her house, and he had the feeling talking to Peter would leave more questions than he wanted so quickly.

Melissa and Chris walked out together, and if either of them noticed through their glares laced with venom that Peter looked satisfied, they ignored it.

The trip home began slightly awkwardly, but worked itself out within a few minutes. They specifically avoided the one topic that brought them together there in the first place, instead making small talk about various things they both witnessed; the school, the town, the people in them. Melissa was amused to find that Chris had a sense of humor after all. Chris was pleased to note that Melissa was a more focused parent than he’d first thought. There were a surprising amount of things in common found, idle connections. By the time they reached the McCall house, there was mutual agreement to meet over coffee that Saturday.

“So should I pack my bags, or can I have a blanket for the couch?” Peter called from the living room as Chris entered the house once again, after a long drive home specifically spent trying not to think, and failing to do so. It didn’t gain much. The hunter took a deep breath, before leaning in the doorway.

“What game are you starting?” _How many times will I have to ask this with you?_

“I suppose it depends on how you choose to play it,” he replied, face betraying nothing. The former alpha only allowed himself to smirk after Chris tossed him a blanket from a side cabinet and stalked off.

Chris and Melissa met up for coffee on Saturday. Then brunch that next Tuesday. Numbers exchanged, and they texted on her break Friday. Weeks passed, and she met up with him every so often at the Argent house. Mostly she ignored Peter, still unsure as to why he was allowed to stay after what happened, but at the same time she supposed she could see a little bit of why. He was just as nice as he’d been before he’d led her here in the first place—probably to make up for letting her know about him and Chris like that—and he was around more often than not.

And he still had those damn irresistible blue eyes, though she refused to let her knees weaken…quite as much as they used to when she saw them. She wouldn’t let herself still be attracted to him, out of spite if anything. No matter his reason for bringing her there to see Chris—she still wondered if he really thought that was the best way to let her down, because _seriously?_ —she had told herself repeatedly, and definitely convinced herself, that it wasn’t worth it. A little. Maybe.

Chris had better eyes anyway, seafoam green at one angle, olive the next. He had lots of good aspects going for him, actually; the rare laughs she drew out of him, his interest in Jane Austen. His care for his child, especially now that he was who Allison had left. He was a good man, and she found herself thinking about him more and more than she probably should have been.

I mean, she knew about him and Peter now, and it was obviously a ‘still’. She saw them together, knew that no matter how the two of them talked to each other, some sort of forgiveness had been made. Chris never talked about the two of them, but she witnessed relationships enough to know that there was such a thing still there to not be mentioned. And she was okay with it, really! Peter had let her down in a really stupid way, but at least she knew now, and wouldn’t get in the way of them. No matter what she wanted from either of them, she was rational, and wasn’t going to shove herself in there where she likely wouldn’t be wanted by either man.

She laughs now at how it took her another two months to realize that she didn’t have to be in the way. Another two months to accept that she could just be _there_ , in it, with them. It seems so silly, how could she not have known? She supposes it’s easier now that it’s just common knowledge, but all the same, she still shakes her head at the past.

“Chris?” she called out one evening, knocking again on the door she’d already opened as she stepped inside the Argent house. “Someone swapped shifts with me so I got the night off, figured I’d stop in for a bit. You here? Peter? Anyone home?”

No response. It made her nervous; Chris’ car was parked in the driveway, the door was unlocked…The house was big, though, and if they were upstairs it wouldn’t be too surprising if they couldn’t hear her. _May as well check it out before getting worked up over two grown men not being right at home when you come unannounced,_ she gently chastised herself, slowly making her way up the stairs.

She hadn’t been up there more than once or twice, but she was pretty sure from the quick tour she had been given one morning that most of the bedrooms were down the left hall. Did she hear murmurs from down that way…? One of the doors was left ajar, and she could see dim light flowing around the edge. That had been Chris’ room, right?

“Chris? I was just—Oh! Oh, excuse me.” she startled after gently nudging it open. While nothing particularly racy was happening, it was still obvious that she had caught them in an intimate moment; their arms around each other as they stood there, Chris’ face buried in Peter’s hair, the other man muttering something too quiet for Melissa to hear. They both turned to look at her, appearing unsurprised at her presence as her face flushed, feeling embarrassed and…A little sad? “I-I’m so sorry. I’ll just go, um, let me—”

“Melissa.” the voice made her stop short. It was Peter, tone warm as ever…But also inviting? She met his eyes, painstaking and uncertain, eyebrows drawing together as he smiled and calmly offered her a hand.

“Are you…is this…” She looked at Chris. She wouldn’t trust it from just one. No matter how much she wanted this—or at least thought she did,she wasn’t sure of anything anymore, wasn’t even sure that it was reality—she wouldn’t be drawn in on some sort of guile by Peter again. Unless…

Chris stepped back slightly, one arm still around Peter’s shoulders, allowing her space to meet in with them, be enfolded. He did not swing a hand out so dramatically as Peter, but she knew the same offer was being made.

She bit her lip, if only to make herself feel better by pretending she would even make a choice in the matter. She wouldn’t; come hell or high water, no matter when or where this option had arisen to her, she would have instantly still had the same answer. Maybe she only wanted it because she was alone. Maybe she just wanted a thrill. She couldn’t convince herself of either. The only thing certain was what would happen next.

Slowly, tentatively, she stepped forward in to their embrace.

~

So where had the sheriff come in? For once, Peter draws a blank. Melissa supposes it’s her ‘fault’, though that word brings to mind something akin to blame. She was simply the one who knew John first, is all, and was the one to bring him to the house; they’d known each other too long for judgement, and while at first he was a little—or a lot—confused as she tried to explain her relationship, Chris Argent had proven to be an upstanding citizen, and Peter was an alright guy from what she’d told John. He began making his usual Sundays for coffee to the Argent house with few qualms.

But that still left the biggest question; how had the Sheriff become really _involved_ with the triad? How had it gone from his coat hanging on a chair to his socks left on the bathroom floor, tangled with Peter’s shirt and Chris’ belt and Melissa’s scrubs? How had it worked up to these nights with Peter underneath him, Chris’ mouth on his ear whispering incentives until Melissa caught the hunter’s mouth once again with her own?

It was subtle, so subtle. It started with him getting to know Chris and Peter, and then just…spread with time. Maybe it was spawned from the subconscious urge to ease the man’s permeating loneliness. Maybe it was just because he was there, and they naturally felt the more, the merrier. All they know is that signs started popping up. Melissa found their fingers entwined on the seat as he drove her to work one evening before his own shift began. Chris remembers running his hand across the back of John’s shoulders as the man sat reading a newspaper one morning, just as he did when Peter was in the same position. Peter…Peter was caught claws-out one night by the Sheriff, the full moon’s closeness giving him less control over the small impulse. They’d been forced to explain everything to John. Melissa had been discomfited for a while, and she wasn’t someone with a gun. They weren’t expecting much good from it.

But he didn’t freak out. Sure, he was perplexed, but after catching on…That was that. Peter was Peter, still an alright guy as far as he was concerned—Chris still doesn’t know how he’ll eventually tell the others what Peter’s done in the past, Peter doesn’t seem particularly bothered that they don’t know—so what was the issue? And he started reading over one of his case files, as if he hadn’t just given an answer that could have solved an age-old feud and many more infractions had everyone been just a little more easygoing like him.

Peter still says that’s the very moment where he fell in love for the third time.

They finally have to accept that there’s no specific moment, that nothing was ever really decided; he just fit, so he stayed, and slipped in to their lives in every aspect. Everyone else was cut and paste; John came with the picture, it only took a little while to make himself known.

~

Things aren’t always easy for them. It ranges from never having enough space on the bed, to being treated rudely by not hiding how they are with each other. But so what? They’re happy, they make do. They’re all each other’s pillows, and after getting a good glare from Chris or a smile from Peter, people aren’t much inclined to make another comment. They make each other meals and go places together and fight separately but make up as one, and everything works out.

They’re happy, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
